Page 197 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet
I howl in delight. “I’m so fucking jealous of your characters.”
TJ laughs as he runs his hands up and down my arms. “I’d never leave you hanging either, baby.”
“I know that. But here’s what Idon’tknow,” I ask, lazily rocking my pelvis against his. “How did you write it and not haul me into the bathroom to join the mile-high club?”
“A tremendous amount of discipline,” he says, amused. Then he raises a finger to make a point. “Also, the ping-pong table came in real handy in the scene.”
When I connect the dots, I’m pretty sure I’ve hit the TJ jackpot. “Wait. They got it on at the ping-pong table?Afterthey played ping-pong with their friends?”
He nods, all sly and proud. “When their friends left, the heroes found other uses for the ping-pong table.”
I mime, putting a medal around his neck. “I’m officially giving you an award for the Best Alternative Use of Sporting Equipment.”
He gives a tiny bow of his head. “I humbly accept.”
As we chat more about the mechanics of ping-pong table sword fighting, something clicks for me. Those uncomfortable feelings from earlier today? They’re not so uncomfortable anymore. Sure, a part of me wants to be his muse. But a bigger piece of me just wants to be let into his world. TJ and I bonded in the first place over the artistic impulse. Creativity connects us. Art is our vitamin.
I want to share our passions. To talk about his stories and my scripts and our worlds.
But right now, libido is in the driver’s seat. “Did it turn you on when you were writing? Did it get you hot?”
He tugs on my hair, jerking my head back so he can lay a possessive kiss on my throat. “Is it hot when we rub off?”
Fair point. “Everything we do is.”
When he lets go of my hair, his gaze roams over me in a brand-new way—open and curious, like he’s contemplating his sex list. When he looks at me like this, I’m riled up and even more eager to please him than I usually am. Ever since he brought it up the other day, I can’t stop thinking about fucking him. I’ve got to talk about it. “That long list of things you want in bed?” I prompt.
“Yeah?”
“It’s been a long while since I’ve topped,” I confess.
“We don’t have to change a thing if you don’t want to, Jude,” he says, then leans up, brushes his lips to mine.
His kiss is tender, a permit to say I don’t want to top him. It’s lovely that he’s giving it, but I’m not sure I’ll accept. I rock my ass against the ridge of his erection, enjoying this position with clothes on, just as I’ve enjoyed it naked. “I really love when you fuck me. So much. But I want to do this for you.With you,” I add. Truly it’s both. “The thing is, I’m worried I can’t make it good for you,” I admit.
He pulls back, startled. “Really? It’s hard for me to imaginenotliking anything we do.”
“Right, but it’s a lot of fucking responsibility to top,” I laugh, trying to downplay my feelings.
“I get that,” he says thoughtfully. “But Jude?”
“Yeah?”
“Just because I have a list doesn’t mean we have to do it. Sex is in the head, and my head’s always in it with you. Any and every way I get to touch you is so damn good for me.”
“I do want to. I’ve been a little obsessed since you mentioned it. I really get off on your pleasure.”
“That’s what got me thinking about switching,” he says softly. “When we were in your dressing room atPillow Talk,I was this close to asking you to drill me into the bed that night.” He seems so vulnerable as he looks down then back up to check my reaction.
My heart goes up in flames.
Oh hell.
This is how I fall for him. Every time he opens up like this, my heart leaps into his hand. “What stopped you then?”
He rolls his eyes. “My own stupid shit. I wanted to findthe perfect moment.” He sketches air quotes. “And that’s why I told you in bed the other day. I have to stop waiting for perfect moments to say what’s on my mind. Especially because...” He slows to take a breath. “I’ve had a long time to think about bottoming.”
“Since LA you mean?”